


America's Sweethearts

by Outlast25



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Eddie and Waylon are crazy together tho, Everyone is Crazy, Fluff, I posted this already but i deleted it, M/M, Mental Hospital AU, Mount Massive will be shown soon, Suicidal Thoughts, Tags will be added, Waylon is crazy, oops lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:30:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5171003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outlast25/pseuds/Outlast25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waylon Park never thought he would kill his own father. He never thought he would end up in a mental hospital. He just wants to get it over and done with. But one man makes it hard to get it "over and done with".</p><p> </p><p>Eddie Gluskin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hello.

**Author's Note:**

> OK! So I posted this like three times. First was on accident. Second I was a big loser so I deleted it. Third is now. I have no clue how this will turn out. IDK when I'll post 2nd chapter because I'm very busy. I have no clue how this will end but I have some thoughts in mind.

Waylon stared at the large print on the hospital. 

**PEAK VIEW MENTAL HOSPITAL**

He sighed. Out of all the places he could of ended up in, he ended up in a mental hospital. 

_Great._

Once they saw the cuts on his wrists and stomach, being in prison and death sentence was off the list. The government knew people would freak out if they killed a "mentally unstable" man. 

_Man._

And yet Waylon was only 19. He didn't feel like a man. 

"C'mon, we don't have all day" The officer said, pulling Waylon's arms. Waylon stumbled a bit over the cuffs around his ankles. The cuffs on his wrists dug into the cuts, causing him to whimper. 

"Quiet now," The officer whispered. 

-x-

"This is your room. Your roomie is...uh...Miles Upshur! Try not to fight. Here are your clothes and shower items. Your closet is right there, so you can put all your stuff in there. Why don't you rest a bit? You must of had a long day," The nurse said, showing Waylon his new room. 

 _She acts as if this is some camp._ Waylon thought. 

The nurse left the room, leaving him and....Miles whatever-his-name-is alone together. 

Miles sat on his bed, facing the window, away from Waylon. Waylon opened his mouth, nothing coming out. His throat was dry from crying all night. What could he say? They were both in a freakin' mental hospital. 

Waylon set his clothes on the bed. They clothes were just nurse-like outfits. Waylon's were light blue. Miles's were green.  

He grabbed his shower items, and walked over to the bathroom. The bathroom was small. One toilet, one sink, one small mirror, and a shower, with the shower head inside the wall. 

Waylon looked in the mirror. It was obvious he hadn't had a great night's sleep in days. 

His mother must look worse. 

His hair was greasy. He  _needed_ a shower. 

Waylon took his shower quickly. He was surprised that he could easily figure out how the shower worked. He remembered when he took a shower at his old friend's house. That was most confusing shit ever. 

Once he got out, he brushed his hair, put on his  _new_  clothes, and walked out the room. 

Miles was still sitting there. 

_What is he doing? Is he mute or something?_

Waylon put his extra clothes and shower items away in his closet. 

"What are you in here for?" 

Waylon turned around to Miles, shocked. He talked! "Uh...Um what?" Waylon asked. He was so shocked that Miles talked, that he hadn't heard what he said. " **What are you in here for?"** Miles asked a little meaner. He was still staring out the window. 

"Um...I-I killed my f-father..." Waylon never thought he would say the words. Miles scoffed. Waylon raised an eyebrow, "What?". "Nothing," Miles said. "Obviously it's something," Waylon put his hands on his hips. 

Miles turned around. His dark green eyes stared directly into Waylon's brown eyes. "I said nothing," He smirked. 

_Freakin' weirdo._

Waylon rolled his eyes, closing his closet door. He walked over to his bed, falling into it. It was hard, but he was too tired to care. 

"I'm in here for killing my teacher and being depressed," Miles whispered, turning back around to the window. Waylon remained quiet. 

He was in a room with a murderer. 

_Wait,_

_I'm a murderer, too._

"You depressed?" Miles asked.  Waylon was still quiet, just biting his nails and staring up at the ceiling. "Cool," Miles said. He stood up, walking out the door. 

Waylon was too tired to care where he was going. 

-x-

A loud bell went off. 

Waylon jumped up, looking around, scared. He looked over at the clock. 8:00 AM. It must be the morning alarm. 

"Get up and get ready so we can get to breakfast," Miles said, already dressed. He managed to make the ugly hospital look good on him. 

Waylon got up, rubbing his eyes. He must of slept over 12 hours but he still tired. All he could remember from last night was waking up every hour and the nightmares.

He hurried to change and brush his teeth. He fixed his hair quickly and walked out the bathroom. Miles sat on his bed, biting his nails.

"Why didn't you leave without me?" Waylon asked. "For breakfast, lunch, and dinner, we need to have our... 'roomie'," Miles laughed a bit. He stood up, walking to the door, holding it opened. "Ladies first," He smiled.

Waylon rolled his eyes, walking out the room. The halls had dim, ugly lights. Patients were coming out of their rooms with their 'roomies'. They all wanted breakfast.

A boy walked up to Miles, hugging him from behind. "Hey!" He said. Miles giggled, "Hey,". Waylon watched them hug, then kiss....

"Who's this?" The boy asked. "This...is...uh.." Miles said awkwardly. "W-Waylon Park," Waylon stuttered. "Oh, hi! I'm Billy Hope. Miles, you didn't tell me you got a new roomie," Billy said, walking right next to Miles, instead of hugging his neck from behind. "I forgot," Miles shrugged. "Well, I hope you didn't forget last night," Billy said, biting his bottom lip. " I did not," Miles giggled like a little girl.

Waylon stared down at his slippers as they continued to talk.  How far was this lunch room?

After a longggg minute of Miles and Billy giggling and talking, they finally reached the lunch room. 

"Hey, Waylon, you can sit with us, " Miles smiled. Waylon nodded, weakly smiling. 

They got their lunch, which was crispy chicken sandwiches, a bread roll, greenbeans, and water, they sat at a table near the back. The lunch room was filled with men, all laughing, all ranging from different ages, all saying something different. 

"You're probably wondering where all the babes are, huh?" Billy asked, swinging a arm around Miles, but talking to Waylon. Waylon shrugged. "He doesn't talk that much, and when he does, he's pretty sassy," Miles smiled. Waylon smirked, looking down at his food. He picked up his fork to eat his greenbeans. 

They tasted like plastic. 

But he might as well get used to them. 

"Well, all the girls are in a different ward. And that's why we're surrounded by disgusting, smelly guys. Except for this one. This one is pretty cute," Billy said, staring into Miles's eyes. Miles blushed hard. He looked down at his sandwich and picked it up.

Waylon put down his fork and started at his sandwich. 

He looked around the room. 

It was weird. All these people had different stories. Different point of views. Different pasts. Different  **everything.** It made Waylon feel kind of weird. 

As he looked around, one man caught his eye. He just got his lunch. He had black hair that was slicked back. He was tall and handsome. His blues eyes shot around the room, looking for the perfect place to sit. 

Billy noticed Waylon was staring. 

"You like him?" He asked. Waylon quickly looked at Billy. "W-What?" "You like him, don't you?" Billy smirked. "I-I...." That was all that could get out of Waylon's mouth. "I mean it's okay if you do. No hate here. That's Eddie Gluskin. Murdered five women including his mother, and is EXTREMELY bipolar," Billy said. 

Waylon looked over at Eddie. He didn't look like a murderer. 

Well, neither did he. 

"Plus, he might be too old for you. Why don't you try goin' for good ole' Leo over there. He's like 20 and is only in here 'cause he did drugs," Billy smiled. 

"I don't like Eddie," Waylon quickly said, looking into Billy's eyes. "Woah, okay, don't kill me, too," Billy laughed. Miles giggled, but hid his laugh under his hand. Waylon stared at Billy, trying to keep the tears in. But his loud laugh made everything worse. He quickly stood up, walking out of the lunchroom. 

And with his luck, he bumped into a large rock. The rock was Eddie...

The lunch he was holding fell on both of their clothes and on the floor. Eddie looked from his food to the floor to Waylon's eyes. Waylon opened his mouth for words, but his mind and mouth couldn't find them. 'Words' was out of his vocabulary. But Eddie had a large selection of vocabulary. "What the hell?" He asked in a deep voice. Waylon hadn't noticed how tall he was until he was standing right in front of him. 

His 5'9" body would be no match for Eddie's 6'4 body. Waylon didn't want to wait around to find out what Eddie would do next. He ran out of the lunchroom, over to bathroom. 

He ran to the toilet, vomiting in it. The smell around the bathroom and vomit brought back memories, causing him to puke more. 

"Way?" He heard the door open. It must of been Miles. "Hey, Way, Billy is really sorry. And if it makes you feel better, the nurses are yelling at Eddie for swearing," Miles said. Waylon sighed, wiping his mouth. He stood up and flushed the toilet. 

Waylon washed his hands and stared at his reflection. All he could see was the Monster. 

Monster=His father.

Why did he have to look like so much?

"How long have you been in here?" Waylon asked. "I just walked in, obviously," Miles said. "No, no, in the hospital," Waylon corrected. "Um, about a year. I have four more. Billy has three more but he's been in here for 3 years. He used to it. He's used to making fun of people. I'm starting to get used to it, too. Trust me, Way, you'll get used to it, too. It gets easier," Miles said. 

Waylon turned off the water once he noticed his skin was getting red from the heat. "I have four years," "Wow, you're like suuuuppeer lucky. Some people have like 20 years. Why do you only have four?" Miles asked, walking a bit closer to Waylon. "S-Since...he.. he abused us... I got off easy. But...I'm depressed so I got two more years than what I originally had. 

"Well....I'm gonna go now. Make sure you don't tell anyone you puked, 'cause than the nurses will find out and they'll think that you forced yourself," Miles said before leaving. 

Waylon stared into his reflection. 

The door opened. It must be Miles again.

Waylon looked in the mirror to see the mysterious person.

It was Eddie... 


	2. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so i re-read the last chapter and I noticed I gave them dinner food for breakfast??? Yeah, sorry. And I'm also sorry if this doesn't make sense or it seems a little off. I'm really confused with the plot right now, but I really just wanted to update. But I have an idea to add some people's point of views. (Not like "I" but like showing what they do when they're away from Waylon)

"Did I frighten you? I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to," Eddie said. 

Waylon turned around,taking a good look at Eddie, head to toe. He wore dark red hospital clothes, his muscles barely being defined, but it was enough for Waylon's imagination to go wild. The only part that was messed up were his clothes. The food stained through, making it look like a blood red, while his own looked like puke.  

Waylon shook his head. 

Eddie have a slight hum. "We've met before, haven't we? I know I've seen your face," 

Waylon swallowed hard. 

He turned back to the sink, trying to get the puke-like-stain off. "Um, trust me, that's not going to work. Why don't you go change?" Eddie asked. Waylon turned to Eddie, giving a slight smile, than nodding. 

_Maybe he's not so bad. He seems so...formal..._

Waylon carefully walked to Eddie. He knew he was bipolar, so he could literally flip out any minute. 

They both walked out of the bathroom, down the long hall for their rooms. 

"I'm Eddie Gluskin, by the way," Eddie smiled down at Waylon. 

Waylon looked up, smiling back. 

He took his shirt in his hands, rumpling it up. He wasn't scared, just nervous around the attractive man. 

He's never been so attracted to a man before. 

"Do you have a name, darling?" Eddie asked. "Waylon Park," He whispered. "Waylon...The name has a nice taste to the tongue. And your voice is beautiful, you should use it more," Eddie smiled. 

Waylon's cheeks went bright red. 

_No, you're not gay. You're not even bisexual._

It was quiet for the rest of the walk to the rooms. 

They stopped at Waylon's room first. Waylon walked in, Eddie shortly behind. Waylon stopped him before he got further in the room. "Uh, I-I need privacy," 

"Totally understand," Eddie smiled, taking two steps backwards out of the room.

Waylon slowly changed, than tossed the dirty clothes in the hamper. 

He sighed heavily, walking out of the room. Eddie was still standing there. "My room now," Eddie smiled, showing his perfect teeth. Waylon slowly placed his fingers over his mouth. His teeth felt so crooked compared to Eddie's.

_Maybe Eddie is some sort of manipulative psychopath to make people feel bad about their teeth and height._

"So how old are you? You look pretty young," Eddie asked. "I'm 19," Waylon mumbled. "Wow, that's pretty young. Well than again, I was barely 18 when I ended up here," Eddie said slowly, like he was having millions of flashbacks from one sentence. 

"How old are you now?" Waylon asked with hesitation, feeling a little weird. Usually he thought about what he was going to say for a few minutes. "25 years old. Only need four more years and I'm out," Eddie said, looking around the hall for his room number. "Funny, I need four more years, too" Waylon slightly smiled. Eddie looked down at Waylon, almost giving him a seductive smile. 

Waylon felt tight down there. 

"Room 230 right here," Eddie said, turning into the room. Waylon waited near the door, staring at the paintings on the walls. 

Previous patients from previous years had painted them and they looked pretty damn good. 

Waylon's perked up when he heard singing. He looked up and down the hallway. No nurses were insight. Whoever was singing it had the most beautiful voice Waylon had ever heard. 

Eddie walked out of the room in a new dark red shirt. Waylon opened his mouth to ask if he had heard the singing, but was cut off when Eddie had started singing. 

He was the one with the beautiful voice. Waylon had no clue what he was singing, but it was relaxing. Waylon stared up at him as Eddie fixed his shirt and pants. Eddie looked into Waylon's eyes, still singing. 

"-One who loves nobody else but you~" 

His voice trailed off. It was quiet for a good five seconds until Waylon said, "Maybe we should get back to breakfast," Eddie looked up at the clock on the wall. "Maybe not, it ends in a minute. Why don't we get to the TV room before anyone else does," 

"Um--sure," Waylon hesitated for a moment. He still couldn't believe this man was a murderer. 

They both walked down the hall, listening the loud bell ring, signalling that breakfast was over. 

"So, what are you in here if you don't mind me asking. You seem so sweet," Eddie asked. "Well I---" "Waylon! There you are!" Miles said, grabbing Waylon's shoulder. "I see you made a new friend," He continued. He looked up to see the man, only to find out it was Eddie. "Oh--Eddie Gluskin," He said with disgust. 

"Hello, Miles Upsur," Eddie said sharply. "If you don't mind, I'm going to take _my_ little roomie back to _our_ room, so  _I_ can show him around," Miles said, making it clear he "owned" Waylon. "Actually, I do mind," Eddie said. "Well too bad," Miles said, forcefully pulling Waylon the opposite way, over to their room. 

-x-

"How could you, honestly? It's your second day and you're already making trouble!" Miles yelled once they reached the room with the door closed. "What are you talking about?" Waylon asked, raising an eyebrow. "What am I talking about? You and Eddie Gluskin, that's what I'm talking about! He's a disgusting man and I forbid that you like him!" Miles yelled a little louder. "Lower your voice. And if you haven't noticed, we're in a  _mental_ hospital. We're all pretty disgusting here. Plus, I don't like him! I'm not even gay!" Waylon said, his throat getting dryer and dryer. 

Waylon walked over to his bed, sighing loudly. 

Miles quickly followed grabbing Waylon's forearm tightly. 

Images flashed before Waylon's eyes. The way Miles grabbed his arm. The way his hair fell over his dark green eyes. He--He has the same anger in his eyes. Waylon was prepared for a punch or worse--a beating on the floor. 

Waylon flinched back, closing his eyes shut. 

Miles carefully released. "I--Um....I'm sorry," He whispered. Waylon opened his eyes slowly, still shaking with fear. "I didn't mean--I'm sorry," Miles said again. He then quickly ran out of the room, away from harming Waylon any further.

His run turned into a quick speed walk eventually.

 _Idiot. I'm such an idiot. How could you do that? I didn't mean to. Of course you didn't. Just like your mother and father. You turned out to be like everyone said you would be._ Miles thought. 

He hit his head until his world started spinning and blackening. He had to walk quicker to his and Billy's hideout. Which was just a closet...

When he made it to the door, Billy wasn't there. He was actually pretty grateful.

Miles quickly sat down in the corner, bringing his knees up to his chin, and proceeded to cry until his eyes felt dry.

**-One week later-**

Waylon went on to never talking to Eddie ever again. Not that he didn't want to, or because he was doing it for Miles, but because he couldn't find him. Like ever.

Waylon had checked everywhere. He always looked around during lunch, around the halls, in the TV room, in closets and even in his own bedroom. He figured Eddie wanted to play a good game of hide and seek. Eddie was obviously winning.

One day, as Waylon walked down the hall to get to his bedroom, he heard singing. The singing that made his ears perk up and his heart flutter with excitement.

Waylon started running down the hall, trying to find the source of the singing. He ran up and down halls, back and forth, back and forth.

Than it stopped.

Waylon stopped in his tracks, trying to remember which direction it was coming from last.

It started up again, this time, right in front of him.

_Room 230._

It all made sense to Waylon.

He hit his head once, than twice, than three times.

_Stupid. How could you be so stupid?_

He carefully walked towards the door, his hand barely touching the door handle.

 _What if it's not room 230 and I just hallucinated Eddie this entire time._  

He opened the door, slowly walking in. The singing was loud as ever. 

Eddie lied on the bed, closing his eyes and singing. 

He sat there singing for a good two minutes. Once he stopped, Waylon opened his mouth, "You're really good at singing," He smiled. 

Eddie jumped up, opening his eyes. "Oh! Waylon! Wow, I haven't see you in ages!" He laughed. Waylon giggled, "Yeah. Where were you this entire time?" 

Waylon felt silly for asking such a question. It was obvious Eddie had been sick by his messy hair, red nose, and ruffled pajamas. The used tissues added a nice touch the scenery. "Sick," Eddie sighed. "Oh, well, I hope you get better," Waylon weakly smiled. 

The bed next to Eddie started tossing and turning. Waylon jumped up. He didn't know a person was laying there. "Oh, don't be frighten, that's just Chris. He's been sick for two weeks. Poor guy," Eddie said, looking over at Chris with sad eyes. He knew what he had in store for the next few weeks. 

Waylon awkwardly stood there, with his hands folded over his member. The messy hair and tired voice made it 10x worse not to release some certain liquids.Over the week, he discovered, maybe he's just in a bisexual phase...

"Y'know, my mother used to make me soup all the time when I would get sick. It was the best soup in the whole wide world. Such a shame she can't be here with us today," Eddie sighed. 

Waylon's body tensed up. Did he just say he wished he hadn't murdered his mother or was he looking too far deep into this? 

"I thou--No, I just- I need to go. I'm late for,uh, my- I need to use the bathroom. Bye," Waylon quickly said, leaving the room. He heard Eddie yell something, but the ringing in his ears were too loud. 

_I need to get away from this man._

Waylon started to run to the room, ignoring the other patients shouting things like "Watch out!""Stop running, you bastard!""Run girlie!" 

Once he made it to his room, the ringing stopped. Everything stopped. He swallowed the lump in his throat. 

_How could someone murder their own mother? And than joke about it?_

Waylon kept asking himself all these questions. 

-x-

"Waylon Park? Is there a Waylon Park in here?" A nurse called from the front of the lunchroom. Waylon awkwardly started to stand up, "Here...?" He said. 

"What do they need _you_ for?" Billy asked, as if it were insulting. 

"I have no clue," Waylon shrugged, picking up his dinner and throwing it away. He quickly walked over to the nurse. "Yes?" He asked. "Your mother is here," The nurse said, walking out of the lunchroom, making it obvious that Waylon should start following. 

What did his mother want to say him? She hadn't talked to him in weeks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, yes I used the sick card from To Be Well (God i miss that fic soooo bad) And Happy Friday the 13th! >:3


	3. The Mighty Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon talks with his mother, meets a "priest" and his sons, and finds out a little something about himself in a closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in forever.

Waylon sat on the chair, twiddling with his fingers. Him and his mother sat in a small room. Only a table separating them. 

"And I want to say that... You didn't have to kill him," His mother, Morgan, said. 

Waylon looked up, "You don't think that I know that already?" He whispered. 

Morgan shifted in her chair, feeling very uncomfortable. It's upsetting for a mother to see her own son in a mental hospital. "T-that's not what I meant," She stuttered. "What did you mean than?" Waylon asked, his anger bubbling inside. "I meant that... You didn't have to kill for  _me._ I was going to call the police eventually," Morgan said. 

Waylon sighed heavily. 

"I didn't kill for you... I killed him for  _myself._ For my protection. And you obviously didn't call the police soon enough," 

Morgan was quiet for a minute or two. 

"I-I was going to. You have to trust me on that," "I can't trust you. Every time that sick man beat me, you looked away. Like it wasn't your problem," Waylon said with a stern face. "Waylon, stop being difficult," Morgan said. "Me?  _Me?_ I'm being difficult?" Waylon pointed to himself. 

"Yes," Morgan nodded. 

"This is total bullshit. You should just leave," Waylon said, leaning back into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not leaving until you apologize," Morgan said, sitting up straight. "Now you're not even making sense! Why should I apologize? And for what!? You should be the one in here! Not me!" Waylon shouted. "Lower your voice," Morgan said. 

Waylon stood up, "No! I will not!". He walked towards the guard, "Can I leave now?" 

The guard opened the door, "Go to your room," 

Waylon walked out of the room, balling up his fists, and ignoring whatever his mother was shouting.

-x-

As Waylon walked to his room, he noticed something very...unusual. 

A chapel. 

In a mental institution.

Waylon looked up and down the halls before entering. 

The first thing he noticed was a large cross on the stage. The second thing was how dark it was. 

He walked down the isle, getting a feeling he was being watched. 

Maybe it was the medicine kicking in.

Than he started to hear whispers. 

"Who's this?" "He looks nervous," "He thinks we're assholes...or stupid,"

The voices kept getting stronger. "I would like to kill him." "As would I" "We give him a running start?" "There's an idea,"

Waylon couldn't handle it anymore. He quickly turned around, running for the doors. They shut even quicker, exposing two tall man in front of them. "Oh God," Waylon whispered, walking backwards. He screamed when he bumped into something.

"And who are you?" The man asked. 

Waylon throat went dry. He couldn't call out for help, or even talk. "Shh," The man said, running his hand through Waylon's hair. "It's alright,"

"Father, what's wrong?" One of the man asked from behind. "Leave, I need to talk to this young one," The man ordered. The men followed the man's directions, leaving the chapel.

"What is your name, my son?" He asked. "Waylon," Waylon choked out. 

"Waylon...Did you come in here to listen to the lectures?" The man asked. "No-who are you?" Waylon asked. The man chuckled, "How rude of me. I'm Father Martin," 

'Father' Martin wore white hospital clothes. He seemed old. "Those men...They were my sons. Do not mind them," He said. "Please, can I just leave?" Waylon asked. Father Martin continued to stroke Waylon's hair. He stared into his eyes for a moment. "Leave, young one. But remember who you are. And watch your life," He said, letting go of Waylon's hair. 

Waylon quickly ran out of the chapel, past the two psychotic men. 

He ran into his room, directly to his bed. He shoved his face into the pillow. 

"What's up with you?" Miles asked, writing in his journal. "I don't even know," Waylon mumbled from his pillow. 

"Wanna tell me?" Miles asked. Waylon sat up. "I would tell you if I knew what happened. Some weird man told me to watch my life--and these men were talking about killing me," He ran a hand through his hair, still feeling the father's touch. 

Miles stopped writing and looked up. "You mean Father Martin and the twins?" "Yeah--How did you know?" Waylon asked. "Yeah, that's one psychotic family. The 'father' once told me that I have a 'calling'. Whatever that means. The whole family is messed up. His sons like worship him and they even killed their mother because she was the 'devil'." 

"Wow. He doesn't really seem like a priest," "No shit," Miles said, getting back to his writing. "So, what are you writing?" Waylon asked, trying to take a look into the journal. "It's my journal. I have to write in it everyday and say what's happening," Miles said. 

"So...It's a diary, basically," Waylon smiled. 

"No, no it's not a diary. It's a journal. My therapist says I have to write in it everyday," Miles sassed back. "And I'm writing about your ass and how you just barged in telling me things about Father Martin," 

The bell rung, signalling dinner time.

Both of the boys jumped up, racing out the door as if this were their last meal ever. 

By the time they made it to the lunchroom, they were both out of breath. 

Once Waylon got his dinner, going towards the plastic forks and spoons, he saw a familiar face. "Eddie!" He shouted out, smiling. 

Eddie was sitting at his table with Chris. He smiled as a response. 

Waylon walked up to the table, "So, I see your healthy enough to get an actual dinner," "Yes sir," Eddie smiled. 

It was quiet for a moment. "Waylon, can I speak with you over there for a bit?" Eddie asked. "Oh, sure," Waylon said. 

Waylon set his dinner down and they both walked to the corner of the room. 

"What is it?" Waylon asked. "Uh-Can I speak privately with you later tonight?" Eddie said, looking down at his slippers. "Why not now?" "No, not here. Not private enough. I was thinking past the last bell," Eddie said, looking back at Waylon.

"Is that allowed?" "Of course not," Eddie scoffed. "I-I guess... But why?" Waylon asked. "I just need to talk to you about something. So you understand," Eddie half smiled. "Sure...Well, I'm gonna go eat now," Waylon said, walking away.

He picked up his dinner, walking over to Miles and Billy. 

"What did that freak have to say?" Billy asked. "Nothing. It was nothing important," Waylon sighed, sitting down. Miles made a vulgar motion about blowing things while Billy laughed. Waylon rolled his eyes. 

-x-

Miles tucked himself in as the last bell rung. 

Waylon walked out of the bathroom, wearing his white pajamas. Everyone had the same color pajamas.

"Coming to bed, Way?" Miles smirked. "Uh-yeah, I just forgot something in the TV room. I'll be right back," Waylon said nervously. "What did you forget?" Miles asked curiously. 

Waylon ignored the question, walking out of the room. Once he closed the door, he started to run. All the lights started to dim, making it gradually hard for Waylon to see. 

He was lucky that he didn't bump into any nurses.

He made it to the closet, he took a deep breath before entering. What did Eddie want to talk to him about?

Once entering, he saw Eddie sitting on a chair. The chair seemed old and wooden. There was another one right beside him. 

"Waylon. Finally," He smiled. "Sorry, I was-I was just scared to run out in the halls," Waylon sighed. "Here, sit," Eddie said, patting the chair next to him. Waylon nervously sat down, staring into Eddie's eyes. The closet was so dark. The only thing glowing were Eddie's eyes. 

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Waylon asked. "It's about my mother," Eddie said. "Your mother? W-What about her?" "I know that you think that I killed her. Wanna know how I know?" Eddie asked. "How?" Waylon fidgeted in his seat. "From Billy's big ass mouth," Eddie smirked. 

Waylon's cheeks went bright red. Of course Billy just had to be super loud. "So, you didn't kill her?" Waylon asked. "No, I didn't. And I wanted to bring that up because you looked so terrified when I brought her up yesterday," Eddie said. "How did she die? If you don't mind me asking," Waylon said. 

Eddie sighed, "My-My uncle killed her. He shot her in the face with a shotgun," "Oh...I'm so sorry, Eddie," Waylon whispered, looking right into Eddie's big eyes. "I saw it all go down when I was about 15 years old...S-She tried saving me," Eddie said.

"She tried saving you? What do you mean?" Waylon asked. Eddie looked down at the floor for a minute before answering. "Saving me from my uncle and father. They were...They were raping me before. And after my mother had been killed, I grabbed the shotgun...And shot them both," Eddie said, his voice quivering every so often. 

"What happened afterward?" Waylon asked. "Well, I called the police and said they all had gotten into a big argument and my uncle had shot my mother. Then my uncle had 'shot' my father and then himself. I went on with my life inside a foster home. No one had adopted me. I got out when I was 18. And killed all these innocent women," Eddie finished. 

It was quiet for three minutes. 

"I'm so sorry, Eddie... That you had to go through all of that," Waylon whispered. 

At the same time, they both looked up into each other's eyes. 

Waylon's heart pounded against his chest as Eddie's palms got sweaty.  

Slowly, they both pulled in for a long kiss. 

Waylon felt like he wasn't even in a closet inside a mental hospital. He didn't feel like he kissing a 25 year old man. He felt as if he were in his old bedroom, kissing a beautiful girl. 

Each time he realized he was kissing the strong, muscular man, the kiss would get even better. Soon, the thought of a girl flew out of his mind. 

He was kissing  _Eddie freakin' Gluskin._

He moaned into the kiss, feeling hotter than ever down south. 

At that moment he knew, he was gay.

Their lips parted for a second, letting Eddie's hot breath linger onto Waylon's. " _Darling..."_  

Eddie went over to kiss Waylon's neck. 

"Oh, Eddie," Waylon panted. 

It all stopped when there was a knock on the door. 

They pulled away from each other like there was nothing going on.

They sat quietly, waiting to be caught by a nurse. 

"Park, I know you're in there," Miles said. 

"Shit," Waylon hissed. "Is that Miles?" Eddie whispered. "Sadly," Waylon sighed, going over to the door. He slowly opened it. 

Waylon's face was squished between the door and wall. 

"Yes?" Waylon asked, staring dead into Miles's eyes. 

"Time to come to bed," He smiled. "I hate you so much," Waylon growled. "What are you doing in there all alone?" Miles asked, even though he knew damn well Eddie was in there. 

Waylon quickly turned around, awkwardly waving bye to Eddie. Eddie smiled, waving bye.

"Let's go," Miles smiled, grabbing Waylon's wrist, pulling him from the closet. 


	4. Can't Help Falling In Love With You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in the middle. Also, some Elvis!

"What the hell, Miles?" Waylon asked, as they were both walking back to their room. 

"That's what you get!" Miles whispered.

"What are you talking about? For being alone with him?!" Waylon asked. "No! For calling my journal, a  _diary!_ " Miles exclaimed. 

Waylon stomped his feet like a child as they walked. "You're joking,  _right?"_ He growled. "No," Miles said, looking at Waylon with no expression. 

"Goddamn psychopath," Waylon huffed under his breath.

"I think you're forgetting that we're in a mental hospital," Miles said.

-Eddie-

Eddie carefully walked into his room, trying not to wake Chris. Though, the beast could sleep through a tornado.

He tip toed over to his bed, quietly picking up the blanket. 

"How was it?"

Eddie jumped up, "Shit!" 

Chris sat up in the bed, staring into Eddie's eyes. Eddie growled, walking over to the light switch, and turning on the lights. "What are you still doing up?" He asked, putting his hands on his hips. "I should be asking you that," Chris said, taking Eddie's journal out from underneath his pillow. 

" _Fuck,"_ "I read your little diary," Chris smiled. "It's  _not_ a  _diary._ It's a journal," Eddie growled. "Who said?" Chris asked. "My  _therapist,"_ Eddie said. "Diary--Anyways, it says here, you were gonna go meet up with--What's his name? Darling?" Chris started to play dumb. " _Waylon,"_ Eddie said, his body tensing up. 

"I feel like I've seen this situation before," Chris tapped his chin with his large finger. "Do not say it," Eddie hissed. "I think his name was Jeremy?" Chris smirked. Eddie let out a heavy sigh, trying to get all of the memories out of his head. He put his hands over his face, hoping his hands would some how devour his body so he didn't have to deal with this. 

Chris threw the blanket off of his body, sitting up right on the bed, letting his legs touch the floor. "Jeremy Blaire?" He asked. "Please. Stop," Eddie said, leaning against the wall. "Remember when you used to come into this goddamn room every day, saying how beautiful and special Jeremy was? Do you remember that? 'Cause I sure do," Chris said. 

Eddie looked up at the ceiling, now hoping the ceiling would collapse and fall onto both of them. "Eddie, this boy is not special. Neither was Jeremy. You need to find yourself a  _real_ partner when you get out of here. 'Cause right now, they're all psycho," Chris said. 

"Chris, stop. You are not my father. Nor are you my therapist," "No, I'm not your father, but I'm old enough to be one. I've been in this hell hole for fifteen years. I've learned a thing or two about relationships and that they never work out in here," Chris pointed out. 

"Chris, I promise you, he is the one. He just has these eyes that make my heart beat faster and faster. He has this smile that I can replay in my head over and over. I never want to leave him," Eddie started to smile. The thought of Waylon made everything better. 

Chris looked down, tossing the 'journal' to the ground. "Eddie, look into my eyes and tell me you're never going to talk to this boy ever again," "I will not!" Eddie shouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're going to get attached again. This boy will leave you just like Jeremy did. He'll act like he's trying, but in reality, he thinks you're pure shit,".

"Do not bring up Jeremy," Eddie said, his voice low. "You acted like Jeremy was God's gift or something! You guys had sex in  _my_ bed! You guys fought like an old married couple. You guys laughed like you knew each other your entire lives. You remember all those good times, Eddie? But than once Jeremy left, he stomped all your hopes and dreams, and I doubt Waylon will be different!" 

**"STOP!"**

Eddie screamed. 

"Great, wake up the whole fucking hall, why don'tcha?" Chris said, tucking himself back in, in case a nurse decided to check up on them. Eddie quickly ran to get his 'journal', hid it in his drawer, turned off the light, and jumped into bed. 

His head ached from all the memories.

Eventually tears rolled down his cheek. He knew Waylon was going to be nothing like Jeremy. 

Right?

-Two days later-

Waylon woke up feeling especially depressed. 

And it was only 9 A.M. 

How the  _Hell,_ was he supposed to last an entire day. He couldn't just sleep all day because they didn't allow that. He couldn't watching TV alone or just relax. He could relax in his room, but every time he set foot in that room, it made him want to vomit. It was a disgusting grayish color. 

He wiped his sweaty forehead, than wiped his sweaty hand on his pants. Why was the room getting so hot?

_I need to go outside._

Well trusted patients could go outside during the winter. But only if they had a nurse near them and some handcuffs on. 

He walked out of the room, looking up and down the hallway. No one was insight. He walked started walking to find a nurse. 

He eventually found Nurse William. A tall, dark, handsome man. He never failed to make the patients laugh. Waylon walked up to him, forcing a smile. "Uh, Nurse William? C-Can you take me outside for a bit, I'm feeling kind of sick," "Sure! Just go back to your room and I'll get you in a lil' bit," Nurse William smiled. His teeth brighter than Waylon's future. 

Waylon slowly walked over to his room. 

_Why can't I just go by myself?_

_..._

_Why can't I cut myself to let the pain go away?_

Waylon entered his room, closing the door behind him. He flinched at how loud the door was. 

**"You piece of shit. You don't deserve love. You don't deserve fucking nothing, you ungrateful shit,"**

The images of his father flashed before eyes, causing him to flinch again. 

"I'm sorry," He whispered to himself over and over. 

A knock came to the door, but it opened anyways. It was Nurse William. "C'mon, lets get you handcuffed," He said. "Why?" Waylon flinched back. 

**"You killed your own father, that's why,"**

"Because you wanted to go outside?" Nurse William smirked. Waylon stared down at the handcuffs. He took a deep breath and slowly stretched his arms out. Waylon felt the cold metal around his wrists getting tighter and tighter. 

Nurse William walked out the door with Waylon a few steps behind. A few twists and turns with the halls later, they were finally outside. 

"You sure you don't need a jacket?" "I'm sure," Waylon whispered. 

He stood outside, looking all around. He forgot how beautiful the outdoors were. It was almost Christmas, and still no sight of snow. 

**"You stupid fuck. Thinking you can one-up your own father?"**

Waylon watched some birds fly to their nests, only to fly away in a few seconds. He turned around slowly, seeing Nurse William looking at the birds, too. Waylon smiled slightly to himself. 

**"Don't think your so strong now, boy?"**

He sighed, looking back at the trees. He wished the goddamn handcuffs didn't ruin everything. 

Why couldn't he just run and never stop?

He looked down at his hands, seeing how red the were from squeezing onto each other for so long. 

**"Oh, Waylon. Why would you do such a thing?"**

"Hello? Waylon? Are you still on Earth with me?" Nurse William asked, his hand on Waylon's shoulder. "Huh?" Was all that came out of Waylon's mouth. "Ready to go inside now?" Nurse William asked. Waylon nodded. Nurse William responded with a warm smile. 

Before the entered the building, Waylon gave one last look at the yard. 

**"You better give one last look at this house, 'cause who knows when you'll see it again?"**

Nurse William dropped Waylon off in his room, taking the handcuffs off. "Y'know, if you're feeling a little sick, I suggest you take a nice, warm shower," He smiled. "Will do," Waylon responded. Nurse William waved goodbye before leaving the room. 

-Lunch-

It was now 12 P.M. and Waylon was feeling shitter than he did before. 

_Just kill yourself already. No one loves you. Not even Eddie. That kiss meant nothing. Your own mother hates you. What's the purpose of life if you're just going to die in the end anyway?_

Waylon walked over to lunch, feeling like he was going to throw up any second now. 

And if anyone noticed Waylon's new attitude, it would be Eddie. 

"Waylon!" Eddie ran up to him, smiling down at him. "What, Eddie?" Waylon growled. "What's wrong? You seem a little...off," Eddie carefully said. "Nothing. I'm just feeling a little sick," The smaller man said, 

"Oh, well, I can fix that," Eddie said. "How?" Waylon asked, looking up at him. "My mother taught her boy well. Just go back to your room and I'll be right back," Eddie smiled. He carefully grabbed Waylon's shoulder, turning him back around. 

Waylon rolled his eyes as he walked down the hall. 

He reached his room and only a few seconds later, Eddie was right behind him. He was out of breath, so obviously he ran. 

"Okay, so, take off your shirt," Eddie said. "Why?" Waylon asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

_Does he think that I forgot about that kiss? He just wants me to take off my shirt to see me half way naked._

"So than you're not sweating or anything. So take it off!" Eddie softly demanded. Waylon slowly took off his shirt, throwing it to the floor. Eddie made a " _tsk"_ noise, bent down to pick up the shirt, and folded it neatly. He opened Waylon's closet and placed it by all the other shirts. 

He turned around, sort of surprised Waylon was still standing. "Well, lay down," He said. Waylon walked over to the bed and plopped down onto his stomach. Eddie rolled his eyes, than flipped over the smaller man to his back. 

He took some packets of crackers out of his pant's waistband and handed two of them to Waylon. "They're warm," Waylon complained. "Well sorry I don't five star food in a mental hospital," Eddie sassed. 

"Fine , fine, I'll eat it," Waylon said, opening the packet. As he ate the warm crackers, Eddie tucked him in. He placed the rest of the packets of crackers on the small table next to Waylon. 

As he headed for the door, Waylon opened his mouth. "Wait, Eddie," "Yes, my dear?" Eddie turned to him. Waylon swallowed hard. "Lay with me," "Oh, darling, I really shouldn't. Plus I need to eat," Eddie said. "Please?"

To a face like Waylon's, Eddie just couldn't say no. 

Silently, Eddie walked over to the bed, and took off his shirt. 

Waylon's face went bright red when he saw Eddie's stomach. It was completely muscular. There were a few scars, but he thought they were beautiful, too. 

_Why don't I find my scars as beautiful?_

**"You should be ashamed of those scars."**

Eddie lied next to Waylon, smiling. 

He turned to face him, staring into his brown eyes. 

"Eddie?" Waylon said. "Yes?" "Will--Will you sing to me?" Waylon slowly asked. Eddie sighed, looking around the room. 

_"~Wise men say only fools rush in~"_

Waylon let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. He smiled slightly, listening to Eddie sing. 

_"~But, I can't help...Falling in love with you~"_

_"~Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?~"_

_"~For I, can't, help, falling in love with you~"_

It was almost like his problems were gone. Not totally, but somewhat. 

Waylon quickly leaned in, kissing Eddie on the lips. 

His lips were soft as a pillow. The scent Waylon breathed in was so beautiful that he didn't think he's ever smelled it before. 

Then again, millions of thoughts were going around each second, so maybe he did.

Eventually the kiss got deeper. More feeling and attention was added onto it. Eddie's hand went up to caress Waylon's cheek, his thumb forming small circles. Waylon moved away from the kiss, staring into Eddie's eyes. His heart exploded with love. His mind couldn't hold onto one thought. His hands shook slightly under the covers. His stomach had a thousand baby butterflies flying all around. The world was silent, only focusing on Eddie. 

"I love you," He choked out. Eddie smiled. "I love you, too,"

Miles, who had just entered the room about two seconds ago, slightly opened his mouth. Because...

1\. He was shocked that they hadn't heard him enter. 

2\. The two men just confessed their love for each other. 

Miles slowly backed out of the room, very quietly closing the door. 

"Shit," He whispered to himself. "Shit, shit, shit, shit," He whispered again. 

-x-

Waylon had walked over to dinner alone. Eddie wasn't feeling that hungry and so he went back to his room. 

His mind was still thinking about Eddie. He couldn't believe he just kissed him,  _again._ He was trying to figure out where the  _hell_ was his life going? When he was younger, he imagined himself marrying a beautiful, blonde woman, with blue eyes. And having three, average kids. 

Than again, he thought that when he was six years old. 

Now he was 19, in a mental hospital for killing his father, and kissing a mentally unstable man. His mind was so full of thoughts that he hadn't noticed he had gotten his dinner already. For dinner, it was chicken, mashed potatoes, and a bread roll. 

He slowly walked over to the table where Miles and Billy sat. He tried to make it seem like he did not just kiss Eddie Gluskin. Dinner had barely started and Miles was already talking his head off. 

"If Q-Tips aren't meant for your ears, than who the hell decided to put it in their ear. And than make a whole trend?" Miles said, staring at his spoonful of mashed potatoes. "I don't know," Billy shrugged. "What are you guys talking about?" Waylon said, sitting down. 

Miles noticed Waylon sitting down, so he dropped his spoon and sat up straight. "I love you," He smiled. Billy quickly looked at Miles, jealously washing over him. Waylon looked from Miles to Billy, than back at Miles. "What?" He asked. Miles soothed his hair back, "Nothing, just repeating something I heard coming out of your mouth earlier," 

Waylon's face drained its color. "What are you talking about?" He played dumb. "Oh, don't give me that shit," Miles smirked. His green eyes stared down Waylon. Billy interrupted, "I'm  _so_ confused. What's going on?" "Well, my dear ole' Billy," Miles said, wrapping his arm over Billy's shoulder, "Our good friend, Waylon-" "Do not," Waylon snarled. 

"-kissed-" "Miles, I'm warning you," "-Eddie Gluskin-" 

"You bitch," Waylon hissed. Billy gasped. "Are you serious?" Miles smiled ear to ear, "Yup! Saw it with my own two eyes!" 

"You slut," Billy giggled. "You guys make out all the time, what's the difference?" Waylon growled. "The difference is that we, are somewhat sane," Miles said. "Miles, you killed your teacher. If you ask any  _ **sane**_ person, they'll say you're super fucking crazy," Waylon said. 

Miles scoffed. 

"Says the one who killed their own flesh and blood," 

Waylon rolled his eyes. The table remained silent for a few seconds. 

"Waylon, what I'm trying to say, is that this man, killed women. For no reason," "You don't know the whole story--" "You're right. And I don't want to know the whole story. A killer is a killer. You cannot blame anyone that you killed someone. And that applies to almost everyone in here. Including us," Miles said. 

Waylon sighed heavily, staring down at his food.

He wasn't feeling that hungry anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not writing for like a month! I was so busy, and someone very close to me died and I wasn't in the mood to write.  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


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